The Russian's House
by Purfessorkitty
Summary: Based on the game: the Witch's House. Germany decides that he hasn't visited his friend, Russia. in a while. He had a terrible cold last time he'd seen him. What happens when strange occurrences happen? Will Germany make it out alive? If so, will Russia be OK, too? WARNING: SPOILERS FOR THE GAME THE WITCH'S HOUSE!


**The Russian's House**

**A/N: A fanbased story off of the lovely game, the Witch's House. I do not own the Witch's House or Hetalia, but I ****_do _****own this story idea. **

**Ellen - Russia **

**Viola - Germany**

**If you've played the Witch's House RPG. You'll know what's going to happen. **

**If you haven't, I wouldn't want to spoil it. ^-^**

**WARNING: This has many spoilers, yet tips to the game. Don't read if you haven't beaten the Witch's House, but plan to!**

* * *

_**"All by myself, waiting for a friend to show.  
**_**_My magic won't help me now, not until you walk through the door.  
_****_Please set me free.  
_****_Don't be afraid.  
_****_I am always by your side.  
_****_Come now, my friend..."_**

_"Eh? You're leaving so soon? You've only been here for ten minutes." _

_"Stop worrying. I know you're sick, but you'll be fine." _

_"You are my only friend, really." _

_"Ja, I know, Russland. I'll be back soon. You'll be fine, OK?" _

_"OK! Hehe~" _

...

Germany walked through the crowded forest. Dead trees were all around, snow on the ground. It was nearly sunset.

He recognized his friend's house easily. The only house in the wilderness. He hadn't seen Russia in forever. Hopefully he'd be OK.

"Yo, going to the house, Man?"

He paused, looking around. That voice was familiar.

A dark brown cat looked up at him. Russia always had a way of doing sorts of... witchcraft. Like England, only he didn't fail at it.

Germany looked down at the cat, nodding. The cat nodded back, jumping up on a nearby tree stump. "Don't say I didn't warn a brother. He gets really pissy when someone visits him." That cat was really annoying, really. It was like Prussia and America combined.

"Is he OK, still?" Germany asked. The cat looked up at him, silent. He sighed, continuing through the snow.

He knocked on the door. No answer. "He dun't want anyone visiting him, Bro." The cat spoke as he moved by his side. Germany rolled his eyes, opening the door.

"Russland?" He asked. The cat looked at him, bewildered, but stayed silent. The house was much more darker than usual. There was no sign of the Russian.

He stepped up to the first door, opening it.

Odd.

There was a conveniently placed red splotch on the floor. He stepped around it, noticing a note stuck to the wall.

**"COME TO MY ROOM"**

That was all it said before morphing into the wall. What did that mean? Was Russia waiting for him? He knew he was here?

He stepped out of the room, noticing that the previous main hall had changed. There were two doors at each end of the hall. Both leading to a random destination, perhaps.

Flower pots were rested on tables, making the room look less empty and lifeless.

He noticed the cat once again.

"Yo, Hobo Joe. Decided I'd follow you just for laughs." He inquired, watching the German.

Germany ignored him, walking past into the room on the right side of the hall. The room was just like the other, dark and ominous. A work bench was in the corner of the room against the back wall. He inspected the bench. It had a pair of shears. They were chained _to _the bench, he realized. Who even chains scissors to benches?

He shrugged, walking out of the room. The cat eyed the room suspiciously, still in the same spot he was in earlier. "Oui, did you know that door you walked through disappeared? Pretty cool, right?" Germany turned to the door which he had seen when he first entered the house. He was right, the door had vanished.

Germany walked to the door to the left, leaving the cat's question unanswered.

He heard a loud ticking noise. There was a clock up the corridor of the room, and the noise was eerily loud.

**"BEARS IN THE BASKET" **

So much for helpful hints. Germany scratched his head, whirling around to look at the oddly placed basket in the middle of the room. A large, stuffed bear was crammed into it. He looked over, seeing that there was still room. The note had said plural, "bears". Did it need another bear? He hated puzzles.

He walked out of the room, down the small, narrow corridor and into the next door. Before going through, he noticed the loud, ticking clock. It seemed to grow louder each second.

There were presents rested on the floor in the corner. They were the most colorful things in the room. He noticed a bear in the pile on boxes. Maybe that could be useful. He walked over to the colored boxes. Honestly, where did these come from? He picked up the bear. He looked at the desk in front of the window in the room. He stepped to it.

A book was placed onto it.

"Russia's Diary."

When did Russia ever have a diary? He opened it in curiosity.

"I was sick.

No one stayed with me.

Not even my sisters cared."

That was it.

Creepy...

Well, you couldn't blame him. He really _is _sick, and well, no one even bothered to check if he was alright. So he had to go.

He sighed, walking out of the room with the bear. He stepped into the previous room.

He walked up to the basket, placing the smaller bear in.

...

It wouldn't fit.

Dammit.

He remembered the scissors in the next room. Maybe they'll help.

...

Taking the scissors, he cut through the soft fabric, tearing off the bear's limbs. Something wasn't right...

Why was a red liquid oozing from the parts where he had removed the limbs? He looked down at the scissors. More of the liquid was on them, some of it also splattered onto the work bench. He stared as he walked away, holding the torso.

_SPLAT!_

He jumped. What the hell was that?

A paw print.

A paw print was smacked onto the wall in red paint.

On the wall that was _directly _in front of him.

How did that even happen? What could've done that so fast without him seeing? He looked down at the bear in his hands. The toy stared lifelessly back with its buttoned eyes.

He walked through the door, pacing down the hall. As he was walking, the candles blew out, darkening the room even more.

Russia better not be trying to kill him. That would not be lovely. No matter how innocent and nice he was, he knew what kind of creepy, corrupted mind the Russian had. But, they were friends. Russia wouldn't kill him, right?

He stuffed the bear into the basket. It fit perfectly. He heard the sound of an unlocking _clink. _

He walked out of the room, not noticing that the basket of bears had moved toward him in the slightest.

He walked cautiously through the corridor. One of the flower vases fell. He noticed it didn't break. Was it made of plastic?

He continued a few more steps. The door on the other end of the hall burst open. Something was advancing towards him.

It was a giant bear.

"What the hell?!" He cried, jumping violently. He fell back into the room, slamming the door shut. Silence drifted through. It was almost as if that had never happened.

But it was obvious he had seen an over-sized stuffed bear just running towards him. Or he was just hallucinating, either one. "What the hell is wrong with this house?" He wondered, breathing a sigh of relief as he stood up. He had fallen on the ground. He'd need to get used to these minor scares.

He continued through the hall.

As he was about to go through the opened door, a soft thud was heard behind him. He whirled around. Teddy bear limbs were on the ground. Weird, did they just drop from the ceiling like that?

He picked them up, turning the knob to the next room. It was a dining room. A table was set up and everything. He found a note taped on the table.

**"TASTE POISON"**

That was an obvious death threat. There was a bowl of an unknown liquid on the table. It looked like rotten soup. He noticed another door, to the far right corner of the room.

**"THE COOK IS BUSY**

**LEND A HAND"**

He opened the door.

There was a knife piercing a wooden tablet. The knife seemed to hover in the air freely.

"So busy. Busy, busy, busy!" A voice chided. Germany realized that the person standing there was invisible. He walked to the invisible person's side.

"Do you need a hand?" He asked. The knife stopped moving and pointed towards him. "Why yes, do you have one?"

The sign was literal, not metaphorical. He remembered the teddy bear limbs he'd gotten. Will that work. He held out the small bear arm. The hand was snatched straight from his hand and lay on the cutting board. Almost immediately, it was cut into pieces.

"Here. For your help." A silver key levitated towards him. He grabbed it gently, walking to the door. He noticed there was another door in the room. Could the key go there? He twisted the key in the keyhole. He was answered by rats falling from the ceiling. "Ugh!" He stepped back. The key definitely didn't go there. It was too small.

He left the room. There had to be a door somewhere. He checked all of the doors in the room. None of them were locked.

He looked at the key. It was rather small. Did it even go to a regular door? He noticed the skull-shaped bowl with the poison.

Walking towards it carefully, he didn't realize he was holding the key half-mindedly. He accidentally dropped the small piece of metal into the bowl.

"Dammit!" He cursed. The key turned a charred black, dissolving into the acidic substance. He heard a clinking noise somewhere near. Looks like that was the thing he had to do. The cat appeared once again, walking daintily into the room.

"Y'know, I haven't seen you around here for a while. Have you stopped caring for this guy?" He informed, licking his paw and rubbing it against his forehead. Germany only glared at him, walking past.

Walking up the stairs, he swore he heard another pair of feet walking with him. He looked over at the next flight of stairs. He noticed an ivory scarf billowing as the person donning it walked down the steps. "Russia?" He asked. No reply.

He continued down the steps, hearing the other pair of footfall getting quieter. He reached the end of the stairwell, looking around. There was no sign of Russia. Only another suspicious looking corridor.

He went through the first door on the right.

It was dark and morbid. A sticky, white silk was strung on the walls and ceiling. He walked further in the room. There were lots of barrels, a bookcase, and a giant spiderweb.

... ?

Wait, giant spiderweb?

He stared at the odd contraption. He saw a small butterfly trapped in the web. He looked more around the room for anything that could probably help free the poor monarch.

**"THE SPIDER HAS POOR EYES**

**HE CAN'T EVEN TELL COLORS APART"**

Wait, so there was a _spider too? _

He looked around. Maybe right now wasn't the brightest idea to save the butterfly.

He walked out of the room, looking around the hall as he walked.

Since when was Russia's house so jumpy? He never noticed any happenings like those before. Was Russia trying to keep him away from here? Nonsense! He always was open to company. Why wouldn't he want anyone to visit?

He hadn't noticed he walked into the next room. He saw a shadow on the ground. It was another invisible person.

"Ugh, sorting these books'll take forever! I really hope there was something to bind them together." He though openly, almost as if he'd intended Germany to hear.

He didn't have anything the person could use, so he ignored him for a moment. The room was filled with books and bookcases. He pulled a book about the house off of the shelf, reading it.

**"Keys do not open doors in this mansion. **

**Something else must serve as a key."**

He looked at the next book, skimming through the pages for any helpful facts.

**"The form of the house changes based upon the spells chosen by the sorcerer."**

He began to look through each of the books that caught his attention.

**"A Funny Story**

**Once upon a time, there was a man pulling along a cart filled with treasure.  
His cart had broken down in the woods, but there came a passing hunter and his dog.  
**

**The rich man pleaded to the hunter to keep a close eye on his cart, to which the hunter agreed.  
The rich man went to get a new cart. Meanwhile, the hunter kept watch.**

**Night soon fell, and the hunter grew worried for his elderly mother still at home.  
So the hunter told the dog to watch the cart and went home to check on his mother. **

**When the man returned, he saw the dog on guard.  
So he gave the dog a reward for his master, a silver coin, to carry in his mouth.**

**The dog ran all the way home and brought his master the silver coin. But the hunter flew into a rage. **

**"I told you to watch the cart, and what did you do? You stole from it!" So the master killed the dog."**

After reading the depressing story, Germany heard hysterical laughter. The room shook, chairs and books trembling as if they were laughing as well. That wasn't funny at all! Well, maybe it wasn't supposed to be funny.

He left the room, stepping into the next.

There were glass cases aligned in the room. He could see spiderwebs on the walls.

He noticed a model of a butterfly in one of the cases. Something came to his mind.

A note had said that the spider holding the butterfly captive couldn't tell colors apart. What if he switched the butterfly with the model? Would that work? It was worth a try.

He tried to take the model. The case wouldn't open. Great, so now he had to try and find a way to open it. He observed more of the room. There was a dusty bookshelf, cobwebs were on the shelves. A piece of notebook paper caught his eye.

**"ROPE IN A BARREL"**

"Rope in a barrel..." Germany repeated softly. He put the note in his pants' pocket. He noticed another bookshelf in the middle of the room of another plane. He noticed a book was missing.

He walked out of the room. He remembered that the room with the butterfly had a lot of barrels. Maybe there was rope in there.

He searched through the barrels, looking for any sign of rope. Most of them were empty.

When he looked in the fifth one, he found it. He took it, walking into the second door.

"Hm? You're giving me this?" The invisible man asked. Germany handed him the coil of rope. "Why, thank you!" The invisible man held out a book. "Here, take this."

_Book of Death. _

He took it, examining it. He opened the book, curious.

On the inside was a bunch of Russian writing. Incredibly confusing. It was even translated in separate languages.

_"Es ist keinen Gott, kein Gott. Gehen Sie auf, pladieren all, was Sie wollen. Nur der Teufel hort dich schreien." _

He felt a burning sensation in his head, almost as if someone was lighting his skull on fire. He immediately shut the book, not daring to read further.

He walked into the room, placing the book on the bookshelf.

_Clink. _The glass case opened. He walked towards it.

He stopped. There was a rumbling sound, almost as if something had crawled out of the cases. He noticed the portrait in front of him had changed. Instead of it being a woman smiling as she held her umbrella while gazing at the lake, she had her head turned to Germany, grinning wickedly.

He carefully looked around the corner. There was a skull, sharp fangs in its jaw. It ran towards him.

He dashed back, coming into contact with the bookshelf. The skull seemed to almost hover, snapping its jaw like a crocodile would. Germany dodged it, diving to the left.

He rushed to the other wing. He noticed the opened case. He took the butterfly model and slammed the door shut.

He breathed heavily, walking into the room with the trapped butterfly.

He switched them, putting the model into the web. The butterfly moved in the slightest.

He steadily walked to the door.

"Gyah!" The floor cracked, forming a hole in the ground. He walked around it before falling in. As he stepped out, the butterfly flew out of his hands and through the wall, almost as if it were magic. He heard another clink. The door had unlocked.

He opened the door cautiously, the cat following.

* * *

**A/N: That was splendid. **

**I'm trying to include main things that happen in the actual game. **

**CHAPTER TWO SOON~!**


End file.
